


Rescue

by Slaskia



Series: Wreckers and Sirens [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Rescue, Wheeljack is in this too, but not named, story addon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: While on lookout duty, Ebonscream and Bulkhead see a bot in distress.Addendum to 'Prisoner'.





	Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> A shorter version of this was originally going to be in 'Prisoner', but I felt going into a different PoV, with a brand new character, so late in the fic would be too jarring. So I turned it into a one-shot addendum to it instead.
> 
> This does repeat a part of Chap 7 of 'Prisoner', though from Ebonscream's PoV rather than Wheeljack's.

It was a beautiful day. 

Ebonscream leaned back against the rock, hands behind his head, letting the sun’s warmth soak into his dark colored frame.  A relaxed pose that others may mistake for him slacking off, but that was far from it.  His optics never wavered from scanning the horizon, looking for signs of trouble.  

“I don’t see how you can get up there like that….” 

Ebonscream looked down at the trainee from his perch and smirked.  Bulkhead was a rather heavy-set bot compared to him.  And shorter for that matter.  Two traits that worked against him when it came to rock climbing.  Not that he held that against him.  While his own tall, lean frame allowed him to be fast and agile, he lacked the impressive strength Bulkhead had.  A strength he was still learning to control granted, but he will get there in time. 

“We all have our beneficial traits and abilities, Bulkhead,” he told him. 

“Oh I know, I just don’t like the idea of being up high like that,” Bulkhead muttered. 

Ebonscream chuckled a bit at that.  “Got a fear of heights do we?” he teased.  “Ya shouldn’t...you’d just bounce if ya fell off.” 

“Ha ha...very funny,” Bulkhead grumbled, folding his arms.  “Just because I’m shaped like a ball, doesn’t mean I’ll bounce like one.” 

“If not bounce...ya would definitely _roll_.” 

Bulkhead just groaned and rolled his optics. 

Ebonscream chuckled and looked back out over the terrain before them.  Look out duty was always a tedious, but essential, duty that required patience and observation.  Two things he was teaching Bulkhead today.  It was important for everyone in their new group to have those things, now that they have made their presence known to the various dishonorable groups out there.  Like the Razers.  After their big hit on that group, he was certain they would attempt to retaliate against them.  He would not let the Wreckers be caught flatfooted if they did. 

When they did, they’ll find that the Wreckers may be new and small, but they were strong and not easy to put down. 

Something in the distance caught his optic, making him sit up and lean forward.  Bulkhead noticed. 

“What do you see?” he asked. 

“Someone is out there,” Ebonscream muttered.  “Heading our way….” 

“Trouble?”  Bulkhead pounded his fist together, sounding eager. 

“Come up here and see.” 

There was a groan, but the younger bot complied.  It took a couple of kliks, lots of cursing and scraping, but Bulkhead was able to reach his perch.  Ebonscream waited patiently while Bulkhead looked, trying to see what he did. 

“Single bot it looks like,” Bulkhead finally stated. “Looks...like they are struggling.  Bot in distress?” 

“Or it could be a lure,” Ebonscream cautioned.  “The Slicers have used them before ta trick good samaritans inta approachin’.” 

“So what do we do?” 

“Stay here and keep an optic on them,” Ebonscream told him as he slid off the rock, landing with a graceful crouch.  “I’ll let the others know what is going on and have someone take over our post.  When I come back, we check it out.” 

It took no time at all for him to return to their little camp, which was huddled in a ravine a short distance away.  After explaining the situation, another Wrecker quickly volunteered to take over the post while they investigated.  A few other’s went on standby, including their medic, just in case.  The trip back even with a slower bot with him, was just as quick. 

Bulkhead slid off the rock, though his landing wasn’t nearly as graceful as Ebonscream’s.  Once their relief was up on the rock, they headed off. 

“I thought I saw some other bots behind the first,” Bulkhead told him as they went at quick pace.  “Three of them.” 

“Friends of the first? Pursuers?” Ebonscream asked, attempting to see for himself as they went.  He didn’t have the height advantage like before, however, so it was harder to see at a distance. 

“Couldn’t tell, they were far off,” Bulkhead replied regrettably.  “The first one is definitely getting weaker though.  I think they are about to collapse.” 

Ebonscream could see that for himself now that they were close enough.  In fact, the bot, whom was short and broad shouldered, white in coloration, did just collapse.  With that bot now down, he could see the other three figures Bulkhead mentioned.  They were approaching quickly and Ebonscream was getting the feeling they were not _friends_ to this bot. 

His optics went back to the downed bot, whom was struggling to get back to his feet.  There was something out of place on them and he quickly recognized what it was. 

“They have shackles,” he revealed quietly to Bulkhead, directing him to slow down and stay low.  “Could be an escaped prisoner.” 

“So not someone we should help then?” Bulkhead grumbled. 

“Depends on why they are a prisoner,” Ebonscream pointed out. 

By now the three pursuers had reached the downed bot and were starting to surround them.  They were close enough to listen in. 

“Thought you’d get away?” one of the pursuers asked. “Your initiation is not finished…” 

“I don’t want nothin’ to do with your Pitspawned tribe!”  The downed bot growled, kicking at the closest one. 

“Tha’ not your choice to make!” the same bot snarled in retort. 

Ebonscream had heard enough.  He gave Bulkhead a nod and they both came out of hiding and approached.  

“Actually...it is,” he stated, his broad winglets high and flared, hands resting on the hilts of his sabers.  All bots looked in their direction.  The three pursuers looked agitated, while the downed one had an expression of guarded hope. 

“Back off!  This Siren business!” one of the pursuers snapped. 

 _Siren?  Hmm...haven’t heard of them._   And it sounded like they were a group they _should_ know about.  But first things first. 

“Forcin’ bots inta a life they did not choose for themselves is wrong,” Ebonscream countered, his tone scolding.  “Thus makes it our business.  Now...ya have a choice.” 

“Yeah…,” Bulkhead growled.  “Leave the bot alone, or we’ll show you what Wreckers can do to bots we don’t like.”  He pounded his fist together, the sound like a mini shockwave to nearby audios.  Ebonscream drew his sabers in turn and twirled them about with a finesse and grace that showed that he was quite skilled in using them.  He noted the downed bot’s expression lit up with hope. 

Their display had the opposite effect on the Sirens.  They looked quite uncertain of their chances and ultimately decided living was the better option. 

“We won’t forget this...Wre’gers….”  One of them growled as they turned and ran. 

Ebonscream’s brow twitched at the mispronunciation. “It’s _Wreckers_!  Get it right ya afts!”  he shouted after them, putting his sabers away. 

“Ha ha!  Cowards!”  Bulkhead was taunting. 

“If I wasn’t feelin’ so relieved to see ya...I’d probably be runnin’ with them,” the escapee admitted, chuckling weakly. 

“Ya look like you’ve been through some slag, my friend,” Ebonscream stated as he knelt down beside him.  Now that he was up close he could see this bot was not in good shape at all. He looked half-starved and exhausted a both mentally and physically.  How long had he been running? 

“You could say that….”  The bots head dipped:  he was going to black out at any moment.  Time was of the essence. 

“Bulkhead, get him back ta camp.  I’ll watch our backs.” 

“Got it, Ebon.”   

“Ebon _scream_ , kid.”  Ebonscream chidded.  “Respect your elders!” 

“Ha ha…,” the escapee commented weakly as Bulkhead picked him up.  “I’ll call ya ‘Ebony’ then….” 

Ebonscream made an amused snort.  “Got ourselves a joker here,” he chuckled.  “Better than Ebon any day.” 

There was no comment from the new bot and Ebonscream quickly saw why:  he had fallen unconscious.  “Let is us make haste,” he muttered.  “He may not have much time….” 

\-- 

Despite his bulk, Bulkhead knew how to double time it when it was needed…a fact that did Ebonscream proud.  They made it back to camp in record time, where they quickly handed off the unfortunate bot to their medic.  While they waited for the prognosis, he filled in the rest of the senior Wreckers on what transpired. 

“Sirens eh?” Kup was saying, his face grim.  “Sounds like trouble.” 

“An’ we haven’t her’ of ‘em until now?” Seaspray queried.  “Ar’ they new like us?” 

“From the looks of the shackles on our new friend, I’d say not,” Ebonscream replied.  “More likely they either kept themselves low-key until now…or this is the first time they had someone succeed in escapin’ them.” 

“Not good either way,” Kup commented, the other’s nodding in agreement.  “Let’s hope that bot makes it then.  He would be our best source of info on this group.” 

“Agreed, but let us not press him,” Ebonscream cautioned.  “We do not know what he’s been through.  The Sirens apparently rob bots of choice…we should strive to do the opposite.  We should ensure he is as comfortable as we can with our limited resources, but not feel obligated ta repay us.” 

There wasn’t a single bot that disagreed.


End file.
